Submitting to Her (16 page)

We slept late into the morning, it being
Saturday there was no pressure to be anywhere. I woke around 10am
to the irresistibly feminine perfume my Zoey wore, and for a while
just gazed at the goddess lying beside me half covered by bed
sheets, in awe at her beauty.

Eventually, while she still slept, I was up
and slipping on my old shirt and pants, then my shoes, without
bothering with socks or underwear. Taking care I had the room key
with me, I headed out of the room and down to the hotel's front
desk, to ask discretely for a late check-out for myself and
Zoey.

Another hour or two of contented slumber next
to her, and it was past noon when she finally stirred.

"What time is it? We have to check out," she
murmured sleepily, rolling over onto her back.

"We're okay. I asked for a late
check-out."

A broad smile grew across her pretty face.
"Clever boy," she purred, "I think that might deserve a
reward."

My heart leapt. Something else did, too.

"But first," she said, "I think I need a
little service, don't you?"

Lying there on the bed, she peeled back the
bed sheet to reveal her stunning body, in all its naked glory.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, dutifully moving
between her legs to kiss my way along her parting thighs towards
her exquisite tender pinkness.

"Good boy."

Her skin bore the scent of soap along with
the overall aroma of her fragrance, making me recall her late-night
shower, and specifically the reason she had taken it. Had I really
watched as another man did those things to her?

"Oh, quit with the teasing, Jones," she
moaned, "just lick my pussy, will you?"

A little quiver of excitement shot down my
spine at her demand for me to do the very thing I most craved. Is
there anything hotter than a woman asking her guy to get down
there? I gently held her upper thighs and parted her legs further,
then I was kissing up along her outer pussy lips, breathing in the
first earthy traces of her arousal as they broke through the
soap-and-perfume veneer.

Oh, how sexy to be between the thighs of such
a beautiful woman, running my tongue gently along her slick groove,
sucking her tender petals inside my mouth, nibbling on her folds as
she began to get really wet, lapping up her sweet juices like a
confirmed addict. Tending to my own need as well as her own.

"Oh, Jones…that's it… oh, God..."

But this time, as I marveled at her beauty
and the sensual extravaganza as I worshipped her pretty pussy, I
also had the dizzying thought running through my head that another
man's cock had defiled her the previous night, stretching apart
these delicate velvet folds to force its way inside.

The thought caused a sharp shard of pain to
slice into my heart. Yet for some reason it also thrilled me,
though I wasn't sure why.

Perhaps I was a masochist. Perhaps it was
just the exhilaration of really feeling something, after what
seemed like years of a mediocre existence. Perhaps it was the
lingering knowledge that while she had used another man as a sex
toy, it had taken my presence for her to come. Having me watching
her - that had taken her to heaven and back, not Brandon's
performance.

Whatever it was causing it, for some reason
the excruciating pain of betrayal and rejection and jealousy
somehow made me hard as a rock as I feasted on the succulent sex of
my goddess.

"Like that, like that, just like that... oh
don't stop, don't you dare!"

She came, of course. That may seem like
bragging, but after so much intense connection with her, I was
becoming an expert in getting her off, knowing exactly how best to
draw out the perfect crescendo with a little flick of my tongue at
the right time, the right force as I sucked her clit, the precise
location when I slipped my fingers inside her to hit her magic
button.

"Oh, Jones… oh, Jones…"

Gasping and bucking and groaning and screwing
up her face as she shuddered around me, her pussy flooding with her
tangy nectar.

Brandon had never made her come like that.
He'd never made her come at all, not until she'd had me
watching.

"You definitely deserve your reward after
that," she said breathlessly, eyeing my powerfully erect cock, and
the fact she was looking at my hardness with lust in her eyes only
made it throb all the more forcefully.

But then she added: "Oh, but we have to get
going, don't we? We can't waste the whole day in a hotel room."

Silently, I groaned.

"Maybe if you're a good boy and you help me
take a shower, we'll have a moment or two for your reward."

My heart swelled.

I dutifully followed her through into her
room for the shower, my insides buzzing with the thought of what
might happen, my granite-like cock straining for release.

"Get in and turn the water on," she ordered.
"I don't want to join you until it's a nice temperature."

I did as I was told, and making as if to step
to the side of the shower to avoid the ice-cold water when first
turning on the flow, I saw her shake her head firmly, no. I took a
deep breath, and stood, as she wanted me to, directly under the
showerhead.

The chill was a shock to the system as I
turned the handle and the water coursed all over me. I could see it
amuse Zoey for a moment, before she hid her smile. I didn't mind -
the heat kicked into the stream quite quickly, and to take my mind
off it, I had the sight of a beautiful naked brunette standing in
front of me.

"It's up to temperature," I announced once
the water felt comfortably warm.

"Okay," she said, and now stepped into the
little shower booth, embracing me under the warm water, pressing my
hard cock up against the smooth skin of her belly. "Not bad,
Jones," she said. "So, are you going to clean me up?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Her skin felt so wonderfully smooth and
slippery as I applied her coconut-scented body wash, and scrubbed
her body with my hands, making the most of the opportunity to touch
almost every inch of her sweet curves, from her perky breasts to
her round behind, including plenty of careful time lathering her up
between her legs.

When I crouched to ensure her legs were
washed, she laughed and pulled my face against her pussy. Kind of
challenging, licking her there while the water coursed all down her
body, but she didn't allow me much time before ordering me up
again.

"Don't you want your reward, Jones?" she
said, her voice softer than usual.

"Yes, Ms Schoenberg."

She put her hands on my cheeks and kissed me,
and I was completely taken aback at the sweetness of our
connection.

She hadn't had anything to eat, she didn't
have any flavored lipstick on or anything like that - how could her
lips be so sugary like that? I suspected that my senses were
overloaded - because she was so dazzlingly pretty, and her kiss so
tender and soft, she was swamping my senses.

My cock was throbbing as it brushed against
her stomach now, straining at the leash as she gently sucked on my
lips and teased me with her tongue, her hands trailing down my bare
chest.

When she broke away, I felt a pang of fear
inside, that her kiss was, once again, what she meant for my
reward, and only her kiss. But her hand now reached my hardness,
and her fingers wrapped around my shaft, and as she looked at me,
she bit her lip.

"Jones, you're magnificent, you know that?"
she said, pumping it gently now, exploring my entire length. I felt
such a buzz from her complement. "Time for that reward, huh?"

"Thank you, Ma'am," I said, and she smiled at
me before dropping into a crouch herself, to use her cheeks to
caress my cock, rubbing my obscenely swollen organ all over her
pretty face before slipping it in between her lips.

"Oh God..." I moaned as she grabbed the base
of my hardness with one hand, and sucked the end deep into her
mouth.

As she now bobbed her head on my cock, her
other hand gripped my butt for leverage. Her heat and the contact
with her wet mouth and tongue was sensational.

But then as I began to feel myself nearing
the end, the powerful forces she was coaxing out of my whole body
threatening to make me explode, she suddenly stopped.

"Did you enjoy your reward, Jones?" she
asked, standing up.

"Yes, Ms Schoenberg," I said, forcing myself
to stifle a groan.

"We'd better get on the road," she said. "I
told my friends I'd go out for drinks with them tonight, and we've
still got a two-hour journey to get home."

Zoey slept almost the entire journey home,
but while I was positively quivering with sexual need as I drove,
after she'd declined to allow me full release in our shower as I'd
hoped, I was at least happy she'd shown me the kind of personal
attention she had that morning.

I felt so fortunate. Merely lying there next
to me in the car, she had a powerful effect on me. She was so
beautiful, she filled the air of the vehicle interior with her
fragrant perfume. All the way back to the city, I considered how
thrilling it was to be with her, compared to any other woman. I
thought about how it was to serve her, I dwelled on the few but
exquisite kisses she had bestowed upon me.

But I also harbored the simmering fear that
what happened with Brandon might not be a one-off. For all the
thrill I'd experienced, I wasn't sure I could stand up to that kind
of intense mix of emotions again.

Zoey awoke in time to help direct me back
down to the end of I-83, past the downtown area then left up East
Baltimore Street toward her apartment.

"It's been a good few days, Jones," she said
as I dutifully carried her suitcase inside the little brick house
on the end of the street.

"Yes, Ma'am, it has."

"Now, you're going to be a good boy this
weekend, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am, of course."

I carried her case upstairs to her
bedroom.

"And you know what being a good boy means?"
she said as I came back downstairs.

"No touching."

"Good boy," she patted me on the behind. I
only groaned quietly in frustration. "Maybe I'll allow you a little
release soon if you keep it up."

When I finally returned to the small
apartment I shared with two other guys, in an apartment complex
just outside the beltway in the northern suburbs by Lutherville, I
pretty much collapsed as soon as I was inside the door. In fact,
the rest of the weekend I entered a kind of hibernation state - my
body shutting down after such an intense few days.

I had supper on the Sunday with Robin - who'd
cooked a mass of steaming-hot pasta, and as he often did, offered
me some when he saw I was in for the evening. A plate full of carbs
was just what I needed.

"How's it going with that babe from work?" he
asked me while doling out spoonfuls of creamy carbonara.

I was startled a moment, before remembering
smatterings of our conversation from the nightclub bar. I said: "I
don't know. It's complicated."

"Show me a girl who's not," he said, "and
I'll tell you she's a dude in a wig."

We slumped down in front of the TV, and I
could tell he wanted more from me than just 'it's complicated'. I
sighed, knowing it was probably good to talk. "I think I've
forgotten how to date people. You know, more than one night
stands."

"So it's serious, then?" His eyes seemed to
light up. I'd never known Robin to be such one for gossip.

"I'm not sure. I mean… we're dating, I guess.
I guess I really like her…"

Robin chuckled, "Who is this mysterious girl,
and what's she done with the real Aiden Jones?"

Again, I felt the need to ask Robin his
thoughts on my situation, but how the hell could I tell him what
went on, and leave myself with any shred of dignity?

I said: "We're dating… I guess… but I guess
she's still dating this other guy at the moment, as well."

Robin nodded sagely. He said: "People do
that, you know? You have been out of the dating game a while. I
guess you've been dating her, what, a few weeks?"

"I don't know. Something like that."

"That's like a lifetime to you, my man," he
leaned over and patted my shoulders. "Welcome back to reality -
it's still early days. Your urban female - they like to date you a
while, maybe see other guys, keep their options open. Then if
you're still going a while, you can talk about exclusivity."

I nodded. It was early days, sure. But most
girls wouldn't subject their dates to watching their other dates
pound them into submission right in front of them.

I was just a mass of confusion. Somehow,
underneath the layer of fear and pain, there had been something
deeply thrilling about seeing my Zoey engaging in such depraved
coupling with that brute. I couldn't explain it, even to myself.
Seeing her take such pleasure in having me watching her have sex.
Knowing that a large part of her orgasm came from having me
watching her.

"It's complicated," Robin said. "Dating's
complicated - period."

"Why d'you think I stuck to one night stands
so long?" I said.

"But you're sleeping with her? Going all the
way?"

"Well no, I guess not quite all the way."

He nodded. "A full Clinton, though,
certainly," and I thought he had some kind of insight before
remembering I'd lied to him that night in the club bar, saying
she'd given me a blow job at work. "So I guess if she's dating
someone else at the same time, you have to assume she's treating
you equally…"

"Maybe," I said, hoping he wasn't going to
somehow read my mind and see images there of Brandon shoving his
fat cock into the object of my affection right in front of me.